


CR££P

by Xx_Addict_With_A_Pen_xX



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Inspired by creep by Radiohead, Josh and tyler go to school together, Josh refuses to tell Tyler because he thinks he's not worthy of such feelings, M/M, Sad, Self Confidence Issues, Self Image Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt (past), Tyler doesn't know because Josh doesn't tell him, Unhappy Ending, body issues, eating disorder (implied/mentioned), feelings of worthlessness, high school era, josh is in love with Tyler, self harm (mentioned/implied), self hatred, they haven't spoken to each other except maybe a handful of times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-25 06:19:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9806885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xx_Addict_With_A_Pen_xX/pseuds/Xx_Addict_With_A_Pen_xX
Summary: "There's the beautiful people, and then there's the rest of us."OrThe story where Josh is in love with Tyler but will never tell him because he doesn't think he's worthy of such feelings.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:  
> -self harm (mentioned/implied)  
> -eating disorder (mentioned/implied)  
> -depression/anxiety  
> -suicidal thoughts  
> -suicide (implied)
> 
> * I listened to the cover of Creep by Daniela Andrade while writing this if you'd like to listen while you read along (:

(Josh's POV) 

_You were here before_

I remember because it was the first time I'd ever seen you outside of school. My heart raced when you approached the counter, and fell when one of my coworkers got to the register before I could. When I noticed that you were alone, part of me wished I had the guts to start a conversation. Or the confidence to ask if you wanted to hang out sometime. All of those thoughts were quickly dismissed when someone handed you your coffee and you left without a word. 

Here you are again.

This time, with two other guys. My pulse could be heard in my ears and for once, I suddenly wished that I hadn't been the only one working today. Your friends sat down in a booth while you ordered. If it weren't for their requests, I would have already made your coffee and had it ready. But, since you were ordering for three, I pretended like I didn't know you were going to ask for a _Café au lait_ with steamed soy milk instead of 2%.

_I couldn't look you in the eye_

You may have noticed and assumed it was because of my anxiety. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought so too. The real reason, was because I didn't deserve to. 

You see, there are two kinds of people in this world. _The beautiful people_ , and _the rest of us._

You belong to the first group, and I, to the latter. 

For someone like me to even pretend as if I were equal to someone like you would not only be extremely disrespectful, but absurd too.

  
_You look like an angel_

This is what runs through my head while I watch you from behind the bleachers at your basketball practice. Maybe it was the way you smiled from ear to ear when you scored a basket, or how you exclaimed joyfully and high-fived anyone of your teammates who did something right. Whatever it was, it made me want you that much more. My stomach churned in disgust as I recalled thinking such things. Some nobody like me had no right to be thinking such thoughts. Especially about someone as royal as you. 

  
_Your skin makes me cry_

It was so smooth and perfect, unlike mine, which was littered in self inflicted wounds and stretched out in places. Each white, pink, and red line served to remind me how worthless I was. Every burn mark made sure I never forgot what it felt like to hurt. And every bruise, whether fresh, or healing, kept that pain close to the surface. My skin was nearly transparent, whereas yours was kissed by the sun. It looked even better when a thin layer of sweat covered it, causing it to glisten under the blue mid-day sky.

  
_You float like a feather, in a beautiful whirl_

 The way you moved was graceful. Both on and off the court. So delicate, it often brought tears to my eyes. I continuously found myself wondering what it must feel like to be weightless in a world full of people trying to weigh you down. 

How do you stay afloat? 

  
_I wish I was special_

Special enough to have been born into the beautiful people. Or to at the very least, to have been good enough for you. But I'm not. And I never will be. You deserve so much better than this world is willing to give. 

  
_You're so very special_

 Talented, bright, and friendly. You're everything I want to be. Your very existence, I'm convinced, is what makes the earth turn. Your aura is otherworldly. Almost too pure and good to have been occupying this god forsaken planet. You're an angel fallen down from heaven. 

Tell me, What's it like up there?

I like to imagine that in heaven, everyone can be with whom they please. Nobody is outcasted or deemed unworthy because up there in the pearly gates of God's kingdom, _everyone is beautiful._

That's not the case though, is it?

I need to face the facts. You'll never be mine, and I'll never be yours. Beautiful people don't get involved with people like me. Average, mundane, and insignificant beings damned for eternity simply because not everyone can be virtuous and divine. 

I just wanted to be yours. 

_But I'm a creep_

A bastard, a dirtbag, a lowlife-blockhead who actually believed that he could maybe make something out of his poor excuse of a life. An airheaded imbecile who is too afraid to approach you, but who also can't keep his eyes off of you. 

I'm pathetic. 

_  
I'm a weirdo_

On the verge of being classified a stalker.  I lurk in the shadows, out of sight. I watch you at school, and follow you to public places, hoping and praying that maybe you would say "fuck it" one day and come start a conversation. Or that you might just pretend that we're just two people and that you're not better than me. Even if you are. 

_  
What the hell am I doing here?_

I ask myself this question more often than I'd care to admit. It's something that keeps me awake at night. It's a question that lacks an answer. 

What purpose does my existence serve?

_I don't belong here_

Not on this Earth, and not in this lifetime.   I have no place that I fit into. Not one. Nobody really accepts me for who I am.

And why should they? 

I'm not beautiful, or special, therefore, I do not matter. 

  
_I don't care if it hurts_

I welcome the pain. It fuels me. The sting of water hitting a fresh cut, the burning sensation in my throat from the bile I discard after a long day of not eating. It all serves the same purpose. To remind me what it feels like to be a waste of space. I deserve this, and I will never forget that.

  
_I want to have control_

Control over my actions, over my emotions, and over my appearance. Despite how I've become used to the pain that I inflict on myself, I do sometimes wish I could have the self control to not do it. Afterall, who could ever love someone who's body looks like it's been dragged through a war zone? 

_  
I want a perfect body_

One like yours. Toned, smooth, and pigmented. Free of any cuts, scars, or bruises. Beautiful muscles bulging out only slightly, no more than 2% body fat, and a six pack, rock solid under your t-shirt. 

What I wouldn't give to touch you, just once. 

_  
I want a perfect soul_

One that God himself would be proud to claim. Untouched by malevolent thoughts of worthlessness and self doubt. Filled to the brim with self love, and inner peace. One that lit up the entire room with it's glowing complexion, and sent everyone nearby good vibes.

One like yours.

 _  
I want you to notice,_ _w_ h _en I'm not around_

 To wonder where I am, to have me intruding on your thoughts, and only in my wildest dreams, to even ask others about me.

"Where's Josh?"

"Has anyone seen or heard from Josh?"

"Someone find my boyfriend Josh." 

Boyfriend. 

The very idea of being claimed by you sent chills down my spine. 

I would sell my soul to the devil, only if it meant I could be yours. I'd even let you drag us both to hell, if only it meant I could hold your hand. 

I would follow you anywhere, Tyler Joseph.

  _  
Whatever makes you happy_

 I want nothing but greatness for you. Even if it means wiping the tears away and forcing my heart to keep beating as I watch you make acquaintances with a pretty blonde, who's eyes hold the ocean. As long as you're happy, I can't complain.

I am willing to give all that I have. Every last thing. Even the shirt off my back.

  _Whatever you want._

  
_You're so very special_

 You are the light in the darkness, the gentle lullaby sung gently to a newborn child, as their mothers rock them to sleep, the human embodiment of God's grace. You, Tyler Joseph, are greatness.

_  
I wish I was special_

But I'm not. Nor will I ever be. At least not in this lifetime. That's why I must go. It's time for me to say goodbye to the earth, and now my worthless life. 

I'll be okay, and so will you. 

Afterall, there was nothing all that great about me anyways. I lived an average life, and now, I will die an average death.

And maybe, just maybe, when you read about me in the headlines of tomorrow's newspaper, you'll choose to remember me as the boy who was hopelessly in love with you, and not as the creep from fourth period biology who hung himself from a rafter in the gymnasium for all to see.


	2. Another Side Of The Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The same story, but in Tyler's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to @/Chloe_brownie13 for commenting on the previous chapter and suggesting a chapter from Tyler's POV. It's a genius idea and I'm glad that it was brought up. I didn't really know the best way to go about writing this from a different POV so I just took the lyrics and changed some of the "You's" to "I's", "Your's" to "My's" etc etc so I hope that it works out. 
> 
> Enjoy reading this final installment (: 
> 
> |-/

(Tyler's POV)

_I was here before_

I remember vaguely. The coffee was good, and the guy who rung me up and served me was very polite. I didn't notice you standing in the back, so I grabbed my coffee and left without another word. 

I wish I had seen you and said hello. 

Here I was again.

This time, with my friends Chris, and Nick. They both sat down at a booth while I approached the counter to order. You were the only one working that day. I watched you grab an empty cup when I first walked in, but you set it down when my friends walked in after me. I still to this day replay that moment in my head. 

Chris wanted a bagel with cream cheese, and Nick wanted a blueberry muffin with a black coffee. I asked for my usual  _Café au lait_ with steamed soy milk instead of 2% and you entered it into the register before I even got the full sentence out. I pretended not to notice since you already seemed nervous as ever.

 _You couldn't look me_   _in the eye_

I mistook it for social anxiety, considering I knew how you liked to keep to yourself at school. I wish I hadn't dismissed the way you shook, and invited you over to sit with my friends and I. Maybe then, things wouldn't have ended as they did.

  
_You look like an angel_

I know it sounds cheesy but it's true. Sometimes, I'll steal a glance at you in calculus. You're usually asleep with your lips slightly parted and your eyelashes delicately dusting your fair-skinned cheeks as your head rests on your hand. You look so serene in those moments. It makes me want to be where you are. 

  
_Your skin makes me cry_

I've only ever seen them once or twice, and it's always been by accident. Most of the cuts, scars and bruises are hidden well, but, once in awhile the hem of your shirt will ride up in the slightest when you stretch, or the bruises will faintly show through the concealer and foundation you put on them in the morning. Whenever I see them, I just want to hug you and get you some help. 

You don't deserve to feel the way you do. 

  
_You float like a feather, in a beautiful whirl_

I found this written on the back of a stall door in the bathroom and wrote it down in a notebook once I headed back to class because I thought it was beautiful. 

If only I had known that it was you who'd written it. 

  
_I wish I was special_

Unique, different, one of a kind. I hated how unoriginal and basic I was. It bothered me so much that other people had my name, and surely I wasn't the only one who could shoot 500 baskets from the three-point line in under three minutes. I often wondered if these types of things bothered anyone else.

  
_You're so very special_

 Intelligent, musical, a poet of sorts. I sometimes find myself wandering down the band hall, just to see if I can catch you drumming like I did once before. You looked so vulnerable, yet happy sitting behind that kit. It made me smile seeing such a timid, shy boy letting go and just being himself. 

I wish I could be myself. 

_But you're a creep_

At least that's what they say. Some have even said that they've seen you follow me around before, but I don't mind. I never have. If my so called friends could see the real me, they'd call me a creep too. 

  
_You're a weirdo_

But that's okay, because so am I. 

  
_What the hell am I doing here?_

I think this is a question everyone asks themselves at one point or another in their lives. Perhaps the most common question asked in the world today. Yet, nobody has come up with an acceptable answer for it. 

Why is that?

_I don't belong here_

Guilt floods through my veins every time I think such things. My parents didn't raise me for nearly two decades just for me to catch the one way express back to heaven by choice. But I guess I'd be sent to hell instead of heaven if I committed suicide wouldn't I? 

  
_I don't care if it hurts_

I have a reputation to uphold. And being a role model to my younger siblings and fellow peers is far more important than being myself and risking disappointing my parents. Afterall, they did work so hard to raise me how I am. I do however admit that I had no idea I was practically being raised to hate myself. 

  
_I want to have control_

Over who I'm friends with, what I choose to do in my spare time, and what I eat. I'm nearly twenty and my mother still treats me as if I'm ten years old and can't make decent meal choices for myself. I just want to be able to eat something other than salad and protein shakes once in awhile. 

  
_I want a perfect body_

Some might say I have it already, but truth be told, I'm underweight. It's not because I have an eating disorder or because I'm neglected, it's because I run on greens and protein supplements which my fast acting metabolism burns right through.

 Not that I look very often, but your body seems just right. Muscular, but not bulging out, fair-skinned, and soft in all the right places. 

What I wouldn't give to have a body like yours.

  
_I want a perfect soul_

One that is true to itself, and not double-sided. Pure and honest, full of sunshine and smiles. I just want my soul to be happy and free when it's time to go see God. Lying corrupts the soul and the damage is irreversible. 

I want my soul to shine as bright as yours does when you walk into a room. 

  
_You want me_ _to notice, when your not around_

And believe me, I do. It may not be visible on the surface, but that's only because I'm forced to live as a man that isn't me. If I were able to live freely, I would in a heartbeat. I'm constantly sneaking glances around the basketball court bleachers just before games to see if you happen to be there to watch the game. I never seem to spot you if you are. 

  
_Whatever makes me happy_

Truly happy, gets taken away from me. First is was my Nintendo 64 with the Mariokart game still in it, then it was my toy piano that I got as a joke gift for Christmas one year. The only thing I seem to be able to "enjoy" is basketball. Truth be told, I begin to resent the sport more and more with each passing day. Forcing myself to do something for the sake of others is all I seem to be able to do. 

I wish I thought about doing something nice for you once in awhile. Maybe a bigger tip when I order my coffee in the morning, or even a ride to school when I pass you by nearly everyday in the harsh Columbus weather. 

 _ Whatever you _ _want. _

I'd be willing to give. If only I knew it might have made your life a little less awful just by me doing something nice. 

  
_You're so very special_

You are the calm before and after the storm. The sunshine that floats in the mid-summer sky, the warm rays that tan my skin after a long day of practicing on the court. You Joshua Dun, are the light in a world plagued by darkness. 

  
_I wish I was special_

But I'm not. And that's okay, because you're special enough for the both of us. 

And maybe, just maybe, when you get to heaven, you can look down upon us and forgive me for never paying you enough mind and letting you slip right through my fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what ya think! 
> 
> |-/
> 
> UPDATE: [3/28/17]  
> YOU GUYS okay so I was just on tumblr scrolling through my feed and this post from @/twentyonepilotsficlibrary [side note: if you have tumblr go follow them. They will find fics for you to the best of their abilities and it's just a lifesaver tbh] and SOMEONE ACTUALLY ASKED FOR THIS FIC TO BE FOUND! It may not seem like a super big deal to anyone else but as a writer, it's an amazing feeling to be acknowledged and to know that people are out there reading the material you are sharing with the world and I would just like to thank that person so if your tumblr URL is @/ nobutig0tcheezewhiz BLESS YOU FOR SENDING THAT ASK it honestly made my night

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback? 
> 
> |-/


End file.
